


Incident at HQ:  The Fall of Overwatch

by Xavirne



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:38:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7796782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xavirne/pseuds/Xavirne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As we really have no idea what happened at HQ, I decided to take a stab at it. This will be a short series leading up to the explosion. It'll explain how Jack lived, as well as what happened to Reyes. Do with it what you want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alarming

Wading into the serene blue liquid, Dr Angela Ziegler approached her mark. It was a body long past the point of saving, but that didn't matter to her. She wasn't knee-deep in this iridescent liquid to mourn the loss of a soldier. No, she was standing in the middle of a containment chamber to inspect the rate of decay. Or rather, the rate of reversal.

Yes, Dr Ziegler, aka Mercy, was perfecting her art of resurrection. She could revive a severely wounded soldier, but what about a soldier who perished minutes before she could arrive? What good was she if she couldn't keep Overwatch's brightest and best alive? What good was she if she arrived a second too late and couldn't do a damn thing about it. They were at war. Sure, peace was all around them. It had been for years. But peace doesn't exist without chaos, without war. She had to be a step ahead. Proactive, especially in light of recent news...

The lose of Ana took its toll on her. Never again did she want to hear that someone so pure, so good had been taken from her. She would push everything into this project-the Lazarus Project-to ensure good people didn't die because she wasn't fast enough. Because she wasn't strong enough.

For the past few months, Angela had been tweaking the Valkyrie suit. It could fly faster, further. It could withstand more heat, more bullets. Why, she even enabled a bio-metric reader. No one other than those programmed to utilize the suit could enter it for the research behind the suit was too impressive. One wrong signature, one wrong password, and the suit would self-destruct, completely erasing all research and knowledge tied to it. She couldn't have it fall into enemy hands. She couldn't let it fall to the corrupt, especially with her forthcoming modifications.

Resurrection.

True Resurrection.

A body laced with a specific sequence of code could be brought back to life with the warm glow and power of the Valkyrie suit. Only specialized personnel would qualify, people like Jack Morrison, Lena Oxton, Ana Amari. True heroes, the heroes that knew the different between right and wrong. Life and death. The kind of people who could make a difference in the world. The kind of people who could fight the tough battles typical soldiers couldn't. And when all the fighting was done, the kind of people who would be completely okay with having the code extracted. To go back to being 'normal.'

She was close. Oh so close to a breakthrough! Just a bit more testing to go and she could final have the serum to give her trustworthy comrades. The serum that would allow the Valkyrie suit to pick up their signatures and allow her, Mercy, to fly to them to aid them in battle. And, should they be shot down, killed, bring them back into the fight.

Edging closer to the floating body, she slipped a tube with a glowing yellow material into the barrel of what looked like a pistol.

"In three..."

She pulled the weapon up, readying it. Steadying it.

"Two..."

She released the safety. Thumb falling against the trigger.

"One!"

_PLINK!_

A dart rather than a bullet flew from the gun. True to its mark, it impaled the corpse square in the leg. In previous attempts, shooting the chest would just cause the body to implode.

"Readings?" She stepped back, forcing the curve of her back against the wall. "I need readings!" she quipped again.

"Vitals are spiking, Doctor!" A voice called over the loud speaker in the containment chamber. "This could be what we... no... No someone stabilize it! More liquid! N! M! More! Q- _shit_."

While the voice relayed what happened on the medical devices, Ms Ziegler's eyes were glued to the spasming body that flailed in the water. With each passing second, the body jolted and jerked, as if it were seizing itself back to life. She could have swore she saw the green of his eyes enlarge, encasing the once dull, lifeless eyes of a dead body.

And then, just as soon as the body zapped to life, it fell limp. Cold.

A liquid started to taint the glowing substance it floated in. As it seeped into the water like a freshly brewed cup of Earl Grey tea, the buoyancy of the liquid shifted. In seconds, the once floating body fell to the chamber's floor. Whatever chance they had of saving this specimen was long good; it had passed the point of no return (no pun intended).

"Mercy," the voice above caused her to flinch. "Get out of there! We're reading high levels of radiation!"

"R-radiation?" She didn't need to be told again. She made a bee-line for the exit.

The once blue water started to swirl black, flicking here and there with flecks of purple. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Clearly they had messed up somewhere!

Fist slamming into the door that kept her locked within the testing chamber, she grunted. Now was not the time to be sloppy! Hand fishing for her badge, she pressed that plastic card against the glass. A second later, the door opened and she fumbled through the clearing. Whirling around, her card was pinned back against the glass. Only, this time, she closed the chamber. That tight, comforting moan of pneumatics greeted her ears.

"Initiating flushing," she stated plainly while moving with quick steps toward the decontamination shower. As she moved, she unzipped the skin-tight suit that protected her from whatever contaminants might have laid within that chamber. Sure enough, around the edges of the ankles and knees, were burn marks-marks caused by yet another unsuccessful test.

"Dammit," she whispered, peeling the last of the suit off and tossing it into an incineration tube. "What the hell went wrong this go around?"

Into the shower she went. It's dull gray walls boring into her as she lost herself in thought. She had to run over every inch of this case. Something just wasn't adding up. They had it perfect. It had worked before it failed, miserably.

The cold, harsh hissing of water pelted into her like hail. It burned her skin and created little welts. But those little welts were what would keep the foreign materials from entering her world-the real world. What happened in the testing chamber stayed in the testing chamber, it was the only way.

Water splashing over every inch of her, she heard the faint murmur of the fans. Without warning, the water disengaged and the humming whirl of a fan distorted the shower. The outer layer of her skin, the dead skin, flaked away. Her once wet hair was now dry-frayed and a mess but dry, just like the rest of her. The blowing portion of decontamination always sucked for it felt like a piece of sandpaper was rubbing over every inch of the body-even the tender parts that risked little to no exposure while in the chamber.

Hands wrapping around her nude form, she shivered. She always hated this part of her research. The actual researching, testing, injecting, that was all fun. The mad rush to the shower, to get quarantined, that was a bitch.

A vacuum sealed around her. It purged all the could-be contaminated air from the room before a rush of fresh, clean oxygen allowed her to breath again. With a sharp inhale, she felt her lungs burn. Air so fresh it could kill.

Door opening, she stepped into the women's locker room.

"Doctor Ziegler," her assist with the glasses rushed up to her, "are you alright?" Her deep chocolate hair was pulled into a sloppy bun as her worrisome eyes tried to avoid staring at Angela's nude form.

Three steps forward and Angela was at her locker. Fetching a fresh pair of underwear, she put them on first. Then her bra. Then she addressed her assistant.

"Yes, I'm fine. But what the hell happened?"

"Mingal thinks we had a slight hiccup..."

" _Clearly_ ," she scoffed while worming into a pair of white dress pants. Tugging on an orange sweater, she reached for her lab coat. Tossing it over her shoulders, it hugged her thighs before coming to an end just below her knees. "So what went wrong?"

Her assistant, Rachel Lin, chewed her lip. "The body might not have been ideal." She kept in line behind Angela as the blonde doctor left the locker room. Her steps were far apart, making it hard for the shorter 4-foot, 8-inch assistant to keep up.

"How so?" Ang quirked a brow. It was a rhetorical question.

Standing before a massive screen, she pulled up the case file on the soldier they were experimenting on. " _Christ_ ," her hand pawed lightly at her mouth. "How did no one notice this?" Her blue orbs immediately panned over to her safe. _"How did no one notice this!"_

"We," Rachel lowered her head in defeat, "we didn't have clearance. We were told it was a cleared body but none of us could actually pull his records."

"Well then how am I looking at his records," she wasn't trying to be a bitch, she was simply trying to get to the bottom of this should-have-been catastrophic incident.

"We _just_ got the records." Her analyst, Mingal, stepped forward. "See this time stamp?" He approached her screen and tapped lightly at the number stamped in the corner.

Angela read the numbers. It was literally just three minutes ago. "H-how is that possible?"

"I," Mingal's hand rubbed his face, "I don't know ma'am."

With everyone falling silent, Angela took a seat on her stool. "This... this just doesn't make sense."

"Seems... fishy," Rachel rested her rump against the desk Angela sat before. "I've been telling you this place has been acting wonky since you arrives from the State about a week ago."

"You're just lacking nutrients," Angela tried to force a smile but was still beyond peeved that they nearly caused a meltdown in the labs.

"Ang," Mingal was moving away from her to pull up something else on a screen opposite her. "You need to c-"

"Doctor Ziegler," a voice called from behind. It was someone from security based on their uniform and badge. His presence silenced the gossip of the lab.

"Yes?" Her head swiveled over her shoulder. It wasn't like security to come here. At least not the main lobby security, which is what this officer was.

"Your 11 o'clock is ready for you in the main lobby."

"My 11 o'clock?" Pulling up her schedule, she saw nothing penciled in for 11 AM. "Did you catch a name?"

"Classified, ma'am. Afraid I don't have the clearance to ask that."

"How... odd."

With silent bows and head nods, Angela rose from her stool. Her crew knew exactly what to do. Document the incident but keep the records offline for a bit. Unexpected visitors usually didn't bode well. And with how the morning had already panned out, Angela wasn't going to take any changes. If something was afoot, she wanted to have the jump on it. And there was no way she wanted her success turned failure due to radiation poisoning to get leaked beyond these walls. She trusted her staff. The rest of Overwatch? Well, she still wasn't sure if all could be trusted, especially not after the forming of Black Watch.

Compliantly, she and Rachel followed the officer out of the restricted medical offices and into the main hallway.

"I'm telling you," Rachel whispered, "something fishy is happening."

Angela rolled her eyes. "I'm sure it's just a mistake," she hushed back. Though both of them knew mistakes like this didn't happen. No random person could waltz into the Swiss Headquarters without an appointment. Whoever stood in the lobby waiting for her, well, they head better be a UN official or she was going to turn right back around and initiate a complete lockdown of the facility. With what happened to Ana, she wasn't going to risk losing anyone else.

The security officer broke away, already creating a red flag in Angela's mind.

"Get to an alarm," Angela instructed Rachel. Depending on the face she saw in the lobby, she would demand her assistant push that button.

Lump in her throat, she exhaled. It was now or never.


	2. Plot Twist

Rounding the corner, her eyes fell on a very typical day in the front lobby. The guards were stationed at their posts, as if nothing unusual was happening. Why, two of the seven of them were looking at their phones. Exchanging laughs over something they saw on their screens. The staff at the front desk were busy cleaning or filing papers. The janitor was polishing the wood. And the florist was pruning the flowers.

Nothing was out of the ordinary, sans one person.

There, plain as day before her eyes, stood someone easily 6-feet fall. A long blue coat wrapped around his form with the Overwatch insignia stitched into it. His boots were perfectly polished, cleaned. As if he knew that the floor was supposed to be in spot-less condition upon entering. His soft, golden locks looks like heaven against his smooth, white skin. Golden sunflowers, blue delphiniums, white hydrangeas, and rustic forest ferns. The arrangement completely hid his face.

A small smile came over her.

Although she couldn't see the face of the man, she knew exactly who he was. Who else would come wandering into the Swiss HQ with a bouquet of flowers? And have the authority to have the guards lie? And have the clearance to even come here without warning or prior authorization?

Why, there was only one man who fit the boat and matched that description. And the lack of alarm was quite obvious upon knowing just who it actually was.

There was only one man brave and bold enough to pull off a stunt like this. Stupid enough to do it too.

Jack Morrison. Overwatch's Strike-Commander, Jack Morrison. _Her_ Jack Morrison.

The lack of a scream or cry pulled Rachel out from the hallway. Hugging that corner, she immediately wore a smile. These two, she thought to herself. They were the definition of love. With a happy sigh, she shook her head before returning back to the lab. There was no need to eavesdrop and watch the couple. She knew exactly how their reunion would play out. It had been a while since they last saw each other. Odds were they might want to break away for a bit to put their bodies to good use. Or discuss their recent tasks-Ang with how she was on the verge of a miracle, Jack with how he had yet again contained peace in an area privy to war.

"I'm afraid I'm going to need to see some identification before I can allow you into the labs," Ang swung her voice. She was attempting a western drawl, like McCree. Her hands fell on her hips.

"Well," Jack pulled the flowers down from his face, "I'm not sure you, ma'am, have that level of clearance."

She chewed her lip, eager to kiss him. "Do you have any idea who you're requesting an audience with?"

"Hopefully my girlfriend, Angel Ziegler, and not some wannabe McCree." He winked, which caused a cute crease to form across his nose and below his eyes. He looked so happy. So at peace.

Puffing out her cheeks, she clicked her heels as she moved closer. "Not sure this town is big enough for the two of us," she continued on.

"I... Uh..." Jack bit his lip. "Are we still roleplaying?"

She nodded. "We haven't met, remember?"

"Oh right." He cleared his throat. "Wait... can we start over? I think I messed it up."

Smacking her face lightly, Angela's red cheeks continued to glow. Although the lobby wasn't eyeing them, she knew for a fact that they were listening in on their conversation.

"Commander on deck," his lips twisted to the side. "Clear the lobby."

Without hesitation, those lingering workers made their exit. Some went outside to 'inspect' the windows. A few decided it was time to have a good, long bathroom break. Others decided they could work down the hall just a bit more.

"Perhaps you do have the authority," her finger strummed lightly against his jaw as she pulled herself closer to him.

"Ma'am, I don't know if you've heard but," he couldn't contain it anymore. Lips spreading into a wide smile, he jumped his girl. His arms wrapped around her as he clung to her for dear life.

Faces smashing together, they kissed. He twirled her about while she tried not to laugh.

This, this was bliss. This was love. Their kind of crazy, stupid, happy love.

Spinning coming to an end, he put his angel back on solid ground. Passing the bouquet her way, Jack flashed her one of his cheesy, dashing smiles. "I've got you in my sights, Miss Ziegler."

"Oh," her hand sprawled across her heart, "is that so?"

His brow cocked. She had a goofy look on her face. And before he could place it, she was running off down the hallway.

"We've got a runner," he quipped before rushing after her.

* * *

It took him no time at all to catch her and scoop her back up into his arms. Twirling her around and around, he held his beautiful woman. Beaming, smiling, radiant, he admired her. Loved her. "Oh how I've missed you," he cooed while gaining another kiss from her sweet lips.

"Well," she squirmed free from his embrace, "if someone wasn't a commander, we could spend more time together." Her voice came off a little colder, drier than she wanted. It pained her but it also tore at her. She hated that Jack kept going back out to the field when... well...

"You mean if I wasn't a soldier." He caught her distant stare and seized her chin right between his endearing hands.

"I would..." Her gaze dropped. Her head hung low. "I could never ask you to."

"Ang," he elbowed her playfully, "do you really think I came here just to give you flowers." He scoffed. "I mean, I was in the area."

"Jack Morrison," she quivered her lip, "you're a terrible liar! I know for a fact you were in California."

"Oh snap," he sucked in a breath of air, "was someone stalking me?"

The way her face glowed like a tomato made him smirk.

"Ooh la la did someone want to fly out to me just to ruffle some sheets?"

She swatted at him playfully.

"You know you love me," he cooed before nibbling on her lip.

She squirmed again, breaking free. Standing opposite him in the bridge the connected the conference rooms to the labs, she sighed happily. It was so great to be with him. See him laugh, joke, play. He was the perfect solution for any rainy day. He was the medication she needed. Her stress reliever.

"Well you got me," he confessed. Her cocked brow made him laugh. "I wasn't in the area. But I made myself in the area. 17 hours later and two flights, I'm here!"

Angela's hand curled up along his cheekbone. "Right here," she took his hand and placed it gingerly across her waist. "Right where you belong. With me."

Their kiss was soft, meaningful. He brushed her loose strands of hair away and she breathed in those beautiful flowers.

"Where did yo-"

"I know a person," he poked her belly. "I also know you. You've been holed up in your office for days now, haven't you?"

When she didn't answer, Jack shook his head. "You're just as bad as me. Work consumes us. But," he rubbed the nape of his neck. "I, uh, I have some news." His voice took a grim twist at the end there. "You... you might not like it."

Flinging her arms around him, Angela buried her head into his chest. She knew exactly where this was going. There had been talk about putting an end to all the wars, all the fear. A final battle. A deadly battle. The suicide mission. To go in dark and likely not come out at all. "Don't tell me you're going there. Please, please, please." Tears welled up in her trembling blue orbs. "If you are, I have to come with you. I've been working on the suit and I know I can help. I-"

His finger pressed lightly against her lip. "Shhh," he whispered while calming her, "let me talk."

Body jittery with nerves, she felt every inch of her break. If Jack was really going to the front lines, really going into the heart of the battle, she needed to be right there beside him. She couldn't lose him. She couldn't lose him like Fareeha lost her mother.

Jack swept away the flowers, sitting them gingerly on the ground beside Angela.

The action seemed to push Angela further toward the point of breaking for she started to sob silently. Her hands blacked out her eyes and she grieved over the news. This, this wasn't fair. Why did Jack have to go. Why couldn't they send Reyes or someone else? Someone without a family!

"Angela," Jack's voice was oddly unamused. "If you would stop overreacting, I could explain."

Jack's hands fell firmly around her shoulders before sucking her body into his protective embrace. "Shhh," he cooed. "You're getting all worked up and you don't even know what I'm going to say," he teased.

Pulling her eyes open, Angela's sad blue pair beheld his comforting pair of eyes.

"I made you a promise," he began. She went to speak, but he shushed her. "I made you a promise. And I'm keeping it. I'm serious about what I said Angela. I'm serious about us."

She was confused. What on earth was he talking about? What promise?

"Want to know the real reason why I'm at Headquarters?" She gave him a faint nod. "I," he chewed on his lip. Whatever was on his chest was a hard thing from him to get off. "I... I... I requested decommissioning."

At that very word, her lips fell apart as her eyes grew wide.

"Now I'm not discharged yet, I have to finish up just four more months. But at the end of those four months, I'll be free. You can keep your job. I'll," he shrugged, "hell I'll finally get to binge watch that tv series you always talk about."

Caught in a state of awe, she just stared with disbelief at her soldier. Had he? Did he really? Did he really put in his papers for retirement? Was he really going to be stepping down? Stepping down to... to start a life with her?

"Earth to Angel," he knocked lightly on the side of her head. Every word he uttered fell on deaf ears. "I punched a cat yesterday." Still no response. "I hate your cooking." Nothing. "Angel...?" He was getting worried at this point.

The tears welled up in her eyes slipped down her cheek and splashed lightly across the floor.

"Th-this isn't a joke?" Her head turned slowly to behold his gaze.

"No joke, Ang." Jack's arms fell around her shoulders. "I'd been thinking about us a lot lately. And," a blush clutched his cheeks, "I've been thinking about things we used to talk about."

The way her sapphire eyes shimmered coaxed him on. She was looking for more and more he would give. To explain why he did this out of the blue.

"Leona. Jack Jr." He continued to hold her between his hands before ultimately pulling her into his chest. "I'm ready. I want this. Us. Them." His head fell neatly against her cheek, where he graced her with a fleeting kiss. "I can't keep doing this. Leaving you behind. I... I have to be with you. You're my rock. My angel. This time apart... it's been killing me."

Hand balling into a fist, she gripped relentlessly at the shirt he wore. Choking back the tears, she flashed him perhaps the most at peace smile he'd ever seen. She truly was an angel.

"Jack," her voice was jittery with nerves. "I... I don't know what to say. This is..." She was truly at a loss for words. Never, never in a million years did she expect this, especially now.

"Angel," he cooed while thumbing her jaw, "I love you." His words were sincere, pure, confident. He didn't falter. He didn't try to hide anything. He confessed what she'd always known. Confessed like he always did.

His words so tender and raw, she couldn't contain herself. Smile growing on her face, she sighed happily. "And I love you, Jack Morrison."


End file.
